Pink Elephants
by Zyii
Summary: A short story that turned into several chapters. Hermione and George have been living together since the war and are now dancing around their feelings much to the amusement of others. Throw in Harry and Charlie and you've got an interesting turn of events.
1. Pink Elephants

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. I just love writing about it.

 **AN:** Originally wrote and posted on another site in 2013. Revamped to be posted here. Hope you all enjoy ~ Hannah

 **Pink Elephants**

"What the hell is that Granger," demanded George as he spotted Hermione entering his shop.

"It's a scarf George and since when have I been Granger?" she asked.

"Since you started wearing Elephants," he responded.

She glared at him, 'I happen to like this scarf,' she said.

He glared back, 'Fine'.

She chuckled at George's behaviour; she loved to see him smiling. The war had been won five years previously but unfortunately among the victims that had died had been Fred Weasley. George had suffered greatly in the years that followed and it had been touch and go for a while when George had become so withdrawn and depressed that friends and family didn't know what he would do or how he would pull through. Things were better now, while the pain of Fred's passing still weighed on George's shoulders, he was much happier than he had been, exclaiming that Fred wouldn't want him to mope around and hide away. He started inventing again last year and the shop has become more successful than ever. He always joked that Fred was somewhere up above playing pranks on all the others who had sacrificed themselves in the war; Remus, Tonks, Moody, Dumbledore, Sirius etc.

George had become one of Hermione's favourite people. The kiss she shared with Ron during the height of the war had led to a disastrous relationship that had lasted for an excruciatingly painful two years. It had ended badly, Ron had behaved not in a gentlemanly fashion and Hermione had been rid of him. Though she remained close to George, Bill and Charlie, she was no longer welcomed by the remaining Weasley's - something about her not conforming to the 'pureblood' view of a wife.

Anyhow, Hermione didn't really care. If someone can through away friendship or family as quick as that then they really weren't great to begin with. Hermione assumed that Molly Weasley was the driving force behind the remaining Weasley's dismissal of her. The older woman had never been fond of Hermione – a fact Hermione had become well aware of during the Easter of fourth year.

The relationship between Harry and Ginny had not survived the war, Harry had thought about getting back together with the red head after the war had ended, however be became irritated with her smothering and obsession with the limelight. It also didn't help that she was incredibly jealous of Hermione and dissed her at every turn.

Hermione lived with Harry in Grimmauld Place along with George and Charlie Weasley. George couldn't bare living in the flat he shared with Fred after Fred's passing and Harry was only too eager to offer him a place to stay. Charlie had moved in after he'd been injured past recovery at work and could no longer safety work with dragons. Fed up with his Mother's behaviour of Hermione and consequently Harry, he'd moved from the burrow to Grimmauld Place.

He had taken over the Quiddich shop in Diagon Alley and though it was not as tantalisingly addictive as working with dragons he was starting to enjoy himself. Harry didn't work outright, he was a silent partner in George's shop and sometimes helped out in the Quiddich shop. He'd been working on an idea for a new broom, something Hermione had been helping him with and was close to starting his own line.

Hermione totally out of character owned a small fashion shop in-between George's shop and Charlie's. Hermione was far from being a great beauty and she definitely didn't dress to impress but she had decided some three years ago that it was high time there was a shop that incorporated both muggle and magical clothing combined.

What had started as a small shop had expanded quickly and there was now a shop in Hogsmead as well. There were clearly others like her that wished for muggle clothing with magical attributes and since the opening of the shop she had collected a fortune of money. She had hired an assistant a year ago to help her with orders, while they stocked both magical and muggle clothes, Hermione also made clothes that combined aspects of both styles. Clara, her assistant had been hired to help assist in the making of the clothes and the range entitled: 'Label Love' had been an instant and demanding success.

Clara was a treat to have around, she had the brains and the beauty and Hermione suspected that a certain raven haired friend of hers had a crush on the blonde haired assistant.

"Hermione, Hermione, yoo-hoo?!" cried George.

"Sorry George was miles away," she replied.

"I know I've been calling you for ages," he said, 'Where were you?"

"In some memories' she replied, then upon seeing the look on his face added, "Good ones".

"All about me I hope," he flirted.

She rolled her eyes, "In your dreams George".

"Oh they are my dreams Granger…every night!" he said huskily.

She blushed at his remark and her heart rate sped up.

"So why have you graced me with your presence this afternoon," he enquired.

"Clara's closing up today so I came to see if you were busy."

"Well it is sort of quiet here," he narrowed his eyes, "what do you want".

She sighed, he always saw right through her, 'the help of a strong man' she replied smirking.

He looked at her with his eyebrow raised, "What did you buy?"

"A new wardrobe," she responded, "but its flat packed. I can't do it alone," she moaned, biting her bottom lip in a ways that made George respond in ways he shouldn't.

"What do I get out of it?"

She pretended to think for a minute, "I'll make a chocolate brownie cheesecake tonight"

"Deal," he said, "Let me just get my coat and tell Verity to lock up".

Hermione waited till George was ready, then they both flooed back to Grimmauld place, George leaving to build Hermione's wardrobe and Hermione leaving to start making that cheesecake.

* * *

By the time seven pm rolled around, George had emerged from Hermione's room, slightly sweaty but happy at the fact that he'd successfully put together Hermione's wardrobe without the use of magic. He sauntered into the kitchen, pride rolling off his shoulders as he watched Hermione work her magic on the food.

True to her word Hermione had made the famous chocolate brownie cheesecake along with a chicken casserole. It was the smell of perfectly cooked food that had the mouths of Harry and Charlie watering as they returned home from their days at work.

"Smells delicious Mione," said Harry – the only one allowed to call her that.

"Yeah, thanks for making dinner," added Charlie.

"She made chocolate brownie cheesecake," said George.

"What's the occasion?" asked Harry.

"No occasion, I bribed George into putting together my wardrobe with the promise of said cheesecake."

"You are wicked," said Harry.

She laughed, "how else am I supposed to get you all to do what I want?" she smirked at their mock scandalised faces.

"You could just ask," said Charlie.

"Yeah, and you wouldn't listen," she replied.

"Always have to be right don't you," said Harry.

"Yeh, I'm just a know-it-all," she said.

"But you're our know-it-all," said George while the others nodded their heads in agreement.

Hermione blushed at George's comment but it was true, they were like a little family.

After dinner George kissed Hermione on the cheek thanking her for dinner then rushed upstairs to take a shower, leaving a flustered Hermione behind. Charlie went off to watch the television that Harry had had installed, while Hermione remained to wash up with the help of Harry.

"So, George was looking pretty sweaty there, are you sure all he did was put together your wardrobe," said Harry.

Hermione slapped his arm, "Please we're just friends," she said.

"So you say but friends don't behave the way you two do," he replied.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He sighed, "Well for starters you flirt all the time. Oi don't give me that look, you don't behave the way you do with him with any other guy. You two are really close, I think he depends on you much more than he lets on. You've been the one to cheer him up during his gloom days and you stood by him all the time when others were thinking of more drastic measures to take. You never gave up on him and he's always there to protect you," said Harry.

"I don't know what you're talking about," mumbled Hermione, her cheeks flushed.

"I think you do but you just don't want to admit it," said Harry.

Hermione sighed, Harry never missed a thing. "Regardless, we'll remain friends".

"Why?" he asked.

"George wouldn't see me that way. I'm like a sister to him," she said.

"I wouldn't assume how George sees you, you might be surprised' said Harry.

"Do you know something that I don't?" she asked.

"No, but I've learnt not to judge people on what I think they might think," he said.

"I'm not judging him," she said childishly.

"No but you aren't taking a chance either," said Harry.

"If I want to make a move, I'll do it in my own time," she responded.

"Time won't wait forever Hermione," said Harry. He dropped the dish towel and walked from the kitchen leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

She had never really thought much of her feelings towards George; she'd pushed them to the back of her mind and left them there. She didn't want to ruin a perfectly good friendship by talking about her feelings. In the matter concerning George, Hermione's insecurities shone through, she couldn't see how George would want to go for someone like her when he could quite easily have any girl he wanted.

Hermione sighed as her thoughts and feelings overtook her mind, thanks to Harry she probably wouldn't sleep well tonight. She left the kitchen and made her way up to her room oblivious to the pair of eyes that followed her, having just heard the entire conversation…


	2. Green Dragons

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

 **Green Dragons**

"Why don't we ever see you with a girl," asked Harry, his habit of meddling getting out of control.

"I've just not found a girl who can withstand a Weasley," replied George.

Harry laughed, "Seriously though, why are you still single?"

George sighed, "I guess I just haven't found the right person. There is no one there to help me, Fred always helped me".

"I'm sorry mate," said Harry, unhappy that he'd made George think of Fred.

"Besides the last time I went out with a girl it was really weird and made me want to vomit," he said.

Harry raised an eyebrow curiously, "Explain".

"Well you know how Fred used to date Angelina, well she cornered me one day at the shop and asked if I wanted to catch up and stuff. I said sure why not. The annoying thing was she just wanted to talk about Fred, then she threw herself at me and called me Fred not George," George shivered, "It was proper creepy, like she thought just because Fred and I were identical she could replace Fred with me, totally screwed up".

"That is a bit sick," said Harry.

"Yeah, sort of put me off girls," replied George.

"What if there was a girl that was interested in you?" asked Harry.

"Well if she was alright, funny, intelligent and swooned under my charm she'd be perfect," said George.

"Interesting," replied Harry.

"Why the sudden interest in my love life aye?" inquired George.

"No reason," responded Harry, "just bored".

'You need to get out more' said George shaking his head at Harry.

As George left Harry was startled out of his thought by the arrival of Charlie.

"Why are you meddling?" asked Charlie.

Immediately Harry was on defence, "I'm not," he replied innocently.

"Oh please, you couldn't be more obvious if you tried," said Charlie.

Harry sighed, "I was just curious".

"No, you're bored so you're meddling with other people's lives," said Charlie seriously.

"Fine," said Harry, "but they would be perfect for each other!" he said.

"Maybe but it isn't up to you to decide that, you have to let things progress naturally," said Charlie.

"But then it might never happen!" moaned Harry.

Charlie sighed at Harry's stubbornness, "Let the chips fall Harry, let them fall", he said, hoping his words would sink in.

* * *

George had been hard at work all morning trying to come up with an idea for a new project. Some days he was inundated with ideas and some days, like today, it was like there was a block on his mind and he couldn't seem to come up with anything.

Truth be told the object of his distraction was Hermione. See yesterday she'd been wearing a ludicrous pink elephant patterned scarf. She said she wore it because she liked it but he half wondered if she wore it to get a rise out of him. Most of the clothes she sold at her shop were really good and he enjoyed seeing her in them but this never venture into animal printed clothing was a bit bizarre.

Surely she didn't willingly want to wear these clothes? Who in their right mind would want to wear a hat with green dragons on like the one she was wearing today. He'd asked her why she was wearing the hat monstrosity and she'd just breezily replied that it was going to be cold out and she didn't want her ears to be cold.

Cold?! It was like March, it wasn't cold anymore, winter had been and gone yet she refused to remove the hat. George had been grumbling about said hat all day, he just couldn't get it out of his mind, or the way Hermione had looked in said hat, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, hair for once contained.

These were not thoughts one should be having about one's friend but ever since his conversation with Harry just that very morning he wouldn't have been thinking about Hermione in that way at all. The fact of the matter was, as George had suddenly become aware of (thanks to Harry) was that Hermione was George's ideal woman. She was intelligent and funny (though she didn't realise it) and she wasn't immune to his charm, as he had discovered over months of flirting with him.

She was loyal and had a tremendous amount of love to give, he couldn't imagine a better person to spend the rest of his life with. But that was just it, he was already fantasising of a life with her and that was a little too creepy for him to think of at the present. She'd only just moved from friend to potential love interest in his mind that every morning.

He resolved to stop thinking of Hermione – for really it would only lead to bad things – and continue with the day's work. However, that didn't stop the grumblings Verity heard throughout the day of 'ghastly green dragons'.

* * *

On the other side of George's shop, Hermione was having a better day. She was trial running the animal print collection and so far had been stopped by many people questioning when it would become available and how many patterns there would be.

Hermione and Clara had had a successful morning, Harry had stopped by with a box of pastries claiming that 'his girls' needed to keep their strength up for all the work they did. He left leaving a furiously bright red Clara behind – flushed at being referred to as one of 'his girls'.

Hermione usually wasn't one to meddle in the lives of others but just because her own love life was non-existent didn't mean everyone else had to be miserable.

"Clara," she said.

"Hmm," was her response as Clara was busily pinning together an outfit they were making.

"How long have you fancied Harry?" Hermione asked.

Clara was so startled by Hermione's question that she pricked herself with the pin she was currently holding and cursed, "I erh, I urh," she stuttered.

Hermione felt sorry for putting Clara on the spot, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," she said.

"No, no. It's fine. I guess for about half a year," she replied softly.

"You've fancied Harry for half a year?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," said Clara.

"And you haven't made a move yet!" exclaimed Hermione.

Clara looked up at Hermione confused.

"Dear God! That boy talks about you nonstop, I'd have thought they two of you would have been aware of each other's feelings by now," said Hermione.

"Feelings, Harry?" she asked.

"Take a chance, ask Harry out," said Hermione.

"But what if…?"

"Won't happen," said Hermione.

"What about…?"

"Not a chance," said Hermione.

"He might…"

"He won't," replied Hermione.

Clara sighed, "If I ask him out you won't interfere or meddle will you?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"I promise I won't meddle," replied Hermione, happy that two of her favourite people would soon be together.

"I popped by George's earlier to pick up my nephew's present," said Clara.

"Oh yeah," replied Hermione, "How was George?"

"Fine…except he kept muttering about green dragons and how absurd they are," said Clara.

Hermione giggled loudly till tears of laughter threatened to fall.

"Am I missing something?" asked Clara.

"No, no. George has just taken it upon himself to have a vendetta against the animal print clothes. He doesn't understand the point," said Hermione.

"And so you wear them to annoy him?" questioned Clara.

"Of course," replied Hermione which sent both girls into peels of laughter.

* * *

George was in a mood. He couldn't concentrate and his ideas were rubbish. It was times like this that he knew Fred was looking down from above and laughing, it made George wish for the presence of his twin once more. Fred always knew what to say to help put things in perspective.

Like this thing with Hermione. Insane right, it was definitely Granger danger alright. When had Hermione changed from being a regular girl who'd help save the world that he'd always seen as a little sister. Now she was like a secret hot ninja – popping up all the time and looking incredible.

George felt a little iffy having these thoughts about a girl who used to date his brother. Granted his brother was a total jerk and Hermione was free and single but still – bad George!

"Georgie Porgie," he heard someone say in a sing song voice.

George looked up to see the one he was trying to stop thinking of, "Georgie Porgie?" he asked.

"Pudding and Pie," she replied with a smile.

"What on earth does that mean!?" exclaimed George with a smirk.

"It's just some muggle saying," replied Hermione.

George laughed, he thought muggles could be so silly sometimes but it was a big part of Hermione so you had to be careful about what you laughed at or you could end up on the wrong side of a hex.

"What brings you to my shop anyhow?" asked George.

"Shop was quiet and Clara can handle that on her own. Plus I was bored and I heard from a certain someone that you've been skipping lunch to work on your ideas" she said.

"Certain someone wouldn't happen to be my brother would it?" he asked.

"Which one?' She teased, 'It was Harry actually".

"Hmm," replied George.

"Anyway," continued Hermione, "I was wondering if you wanted to get a spot of lunch with me."

George pretended to ponder her request, lunch with Hermione would definitely beat sitting here moping about all the failed ideas he'd had.

He jumped up with an air of dramatics, then bowed before Hermione stating, "My dear maiden I would be delighted to partake in some luncheon with you!"

Hermione laughed at his dramatics. With George you had to go with the flow, otherwise the humiliation could be overbearing.

She decided to play along, "Well you fine gentleman where would you like to go?"

They ended up in a pub called 'The Golden Leprechaun', it was owned by Seamus Finnegan and his family – they opened in the cheap rush months after the war. The pub had a friendly feel and was very lively and jolly. Of course there was the added bonus of being school chums, the discount was good. Seamus' Mother was the best cook in Diagon Alley – her cooking beat all the stuck up pureblood restaurants in the gold district and put Hermione's good cooking to shame.

"I can't believe you went for a salad!" said George.

Hermione huffed, "It's not a salad it's a pasta dish."

"Then why is it full of green leaves," he asked.

"That's spinach you idiot," she said.

"Oh' replied George, 'Well it still looks too healthy."

"Well compared to yours it would do," she said.

"What's wrong with my food?" he asked.

"Nothing…other than it looks like it could clog your arteries in ten seconds," she smirked.

"Oi Granger, leave off. I like my food," he replied, the use of her surname slipping in when he was mildly annoyed etc.

"Back to Granger are we?" she sighed – falsely dramatic.

"You insulted my food," moaned George.

"Heaven forbid anyone does that," she replied.

"Ok enough, no more criticising my food," he said.

Hermione laughed, 'I'm sorry George' she said while smiling.

They talked and laughed the way through the rest of their lunch, the conversation flowed easily and they were both struck by something – how easy it was to be themselves around each other. Their friendship seemed complex to outsiders, and they were especially close but until that moment in The Golden Leprechaun, neither had realised it for themselves.

"Have you noticed Harry and Charlie acting suspiciously?" asked George.

"I have actually; they've been having secret meetings and suspiciously whispered conversations," replied Hermione.

"Do you think they're conspiring something?" asked George.

"Well I sort of thought that perhaps Harry was asking Charlie's help on how to clue in his crush," said Hermione.

"His crush?" questioned George, "Oh you mean Clara."

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, that's what I thought but now I'm not so sure," she said.

"Perhaps we should find out," said George.

Hermione smiled mischievously, "What do you suggest?" she asked.

After George had whispered his plan in her ear, she cackled loudly alerting many tables nearby to her presence.

George laughed at her embarrassment, "Can't take you anywhere," he said smiling, "Come on, let's go."


	3. Orange Monkeys

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

 **Orange Monkeys**

When Hermione woke up this morning she didn't expect that her day would consist of hiding in a cupboard with George, her white jumper with orange monkeys on was tickling George's bare arms as they hid from the intruders and eavesdropped on their conversation.

For a while neither of them could hear a thing, until they both heard the unmistakable booming sound of Charlie laughing.

"I can't believe you're still running on that broken record," said Charlie with disbelief.

"Please you just can't believe that they still aren't together," replied Harry.

"I told you once I'll tell you again, if they're meant to be they'll do it in their own time, not at your command," he said.

"Urgh, I know you're right but I want them together so badly, why can't they see how perfect they'd be for each other?" said Harry.

"Because my brother and Hermione are special creatures, they don't notice the obvious things that everyone else does; they're too wrapped in their own lives," said Charlie.

"Fine, I'll try to stop pushing them," said Harry, "Back to work?" he added.

"Yeah," replied Charlie.

* * *

Hermione and George stood as still as bricks for several seconds, each refusing to look at the other and each standing as far away as they could get. Overhearing something like that conversation was not going to be one they'd forget, you can't just ignore the fact that your friends would like you and the significant other to get involved.

"Well that was awkward," said George nervously.

Hermione was having problems speaking, her mouth had gone all dry but she managed to reply with a "yeah."

"So…" said George.

"We should probably leave this cupboard," said Hermione.

"Yeah," replied George.

Neither moved for a further couple of seconds before George finally clasped his fingers around the doorknob and pushed the door open. Light engulfed the two of them and there was now no hiding the red flush that dominated their faces.

"I erh," stuttered George.

"See you at dinner?" asked Hermione.

"Oh yeah, take out and a movie right?" replied George.

"Yeah but its Harry's turn to pick so who knows what we'll be subjected to' she said.

"Ok, see you later then," he said in response.

"Yeah later," she mumbled – talk about most awkward situations ever, she wouldn't be forgetting this one in a hurry.

"Oh em gee! You are kidding aren't you?" inquired Clara.

Hermione moaned her head resting against the table top in anguish, "No, it was so embarrassing."

Clara giggled at her friend's embarrassment before composing her face to look serious, "In light of that conversation though, how do you feel about George?" she asked.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Hermione completely on defence.

"I just mean you two are awfully close are you sure you're just friends or do you feel something for him?" asked Clara.

She watched as Hermione blushed a little, "Well?" she demanded.

"I do like George," said Hermione.

"As a friend or?" prompted Clara.

"I like him as a friend, he makes me laugh and we have great opinionated conversations. I love that when we watch a film or if I'm falling asleep he runs his fingers through my hair, strokes my face and tickles my neck. I like that he makes me feel safe and that I can be myself around him," said Hermione.

Though she didn't answer Clara's question exactly, the close friend wasn't going to be deterred from getting the answer she wanted, "How would you feel is George started dating someone?"

"Angry," replied Hermione quickly. "Sad and hurt," she added.

"Why do you think you'd feel like that?" asked Clara.

"Because he'd my friend, he should tell me if he's going to date right, friends before significant others right?"

Clara waited a few more moments not feeling that her friend had finished answering the question.

"George shouldn't be with anyone other than me anyway," whispered Hermione.

"Why is that," replied Clara equally as quiet.

"Because I love him," replied Hermione with unshed tears lacing her eyes as she realised what everyone around her already saw.

"So," said Clara slowly, "what are you going to do about it?"

"Harry told me time won't wait forever," said Hermione.

"Well then you better get a move on!" shouted Clara startling Hermione.

"You can fix my love life all you want," said Hermione, "I'll only return the favour!"

Now it was Clara's turn to blush.

Realising you loved someone wasn't like the movies. There were no slow motion running towards your love ones, no heartfelt moments, no big declarations of love and adoration. Yes Hermione had been corner by two close friends into admitting her feelings for George but that didn't bring her any closer to doing something.

Truthfully she was afraid. It's always more terrifying when ones feelings were so deep. Hermione couldn't work out when she started feeling this way towards George. Things had evolved so easily that it they'd moved from friends to something more without really realising it.

Their friendship or relationship was so strong and close that it baffled others. George was a very good looking man it stood to reason that he could get any girl he wanted and there were plenty out there who were blatantly ogling him.

Hermione wasn't a fool, she knew the friendship she had with George was a good one and she didn't want to risk losing it by admitting her feelings. Hermione wasn't naïve, she knew she was valued for being intelligent and for her part in the war but she knew she wasn't pretty like some of the other girls. She didn't have an obvious beauty, she wasn't stunning and she couldn't be called sexy. She felt that she was passable. The small insecure voice inside her head told her to stop her deluded fantasies for surely someone as great and wonderful as George would never pick such a boring and plain girl.

Except, Hermione _was_ a fool she just didn't know it yet.


	4. Blue Owls

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter

 **Blue Owls**

Somehow George had managed to get himself into a troublesome situation, he wasn't really sure how it had happened but it had and now he had to deal with the consequences.

One half of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, George knew how attractive he was to the opposite sex. He knew all about the gold diggers out there who just wanted a chance at grabbing his money and he also knew of the deluded girls who thought that being with George was the same as being with Fred – George had no intention of participating in these disgraceful girls fantasies.

George hadn't been on the dating scene in a long time. After that disastrous encounter with Angelina he'd sworn off girls for a while. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in them, it was just that he hadn't found one worth his time.

Sometimes his mind made up words concerning a very dear friend of his but he brushed them aside totally focused on the fact that she was his friend. He could look and admire her as long as he didn't make a move; there were plenty of people that would be ready to murder him if he so much as blinked at her the wrong way. No however much he thought of it, it was much better to view the forbidden from afar.

It was all Harry's fault really, that stupid conversation he'd had with him and then that other conversation that he'd overheard had messed with him mind. He'd begin to imagine things that had once been impossible.

Somehow through all this mumbo jumbo George had managed to find himself sitting opposite one Katie Bell on a date in the Leaky Cauldron. He hadn't planned on this date, he had generally thought it would just be two friends meeting up for a couple of drinks and talking of old times. He'd been so wrong.

He'd only seen Hermione once; he'd mentioned his drinks with Katie and watched with curiosity when Hermione visibly paled at the mentioned name. George was an observant chap and he noticed with confusion the look of disappointment on Hermione's face when George mentioned his evening plans.

Katie was talking to him but he'd completely zoned out, his mind focused on Hermione instead. However he did notice the way Katie's hand lingered on his arm making circular patterns with her fingers. He supposed she was trying to seduce him but he wasn't feeling it. He'd always felt that Katie was a bit too much in school, always wanting more than she should. George wanted no part in a girl like that; he liked his girls to be intelligent and creative, soft and kind, sexy and passionate. Katie was none of those things but there was someone else who was.

* * *

 **Four Hours Previously**

Hermione sighed as she rearranged items in her store. It had been a quiet morning, Clara wasn't due to start work till the afternoon and Hermione was bored. Usually she'd have visited George by now but without Clara to watch over the shop she hadn't been able to.

The door tinkled and Hermione brightened at the prospect of having a customer, until she saw who it was…

Katie Bell strode confidently into the shop her arrogance showing off her truly unpleasant nature. Katie had always been some sort of a bully towards Hermione at Hogwarts. Hermione didn't know why, perhaps it was Hermione perchance for the rules, her pride and intelligence of perhaps it was just that their personalities rubbed each other up the wrong way. Hermione tried to make the best of things, she was polite and courteous but Katie was relentless in her belittling of Hermione and in the end Hermione stopped trying to be polite and kind.

"Granger," she said coldly.

"Bell, how can I help you today?" replied Hermione.

Perhaps it was Hermione's kind attitude that set Katie off because as Hermione finished speaking Katie's face transformed into a snarl.

"Oh I'm not here for your tatty clothes; I wouldn't be caught dead in them. I'm surprised you have any customers at all," she said.

Hermione sighed, "What do you want?"

"Stay away from George," she said.

"Excuse me?" replied Hermione.

"I'm going on a date with George tonight, it will be the first of many and I will win. So you better be good at a disappearing act," she said.

"What are you talking about George would never go on a date with you," replied Hermione.

"No, he would never go on a date with you! Which is why you can't let go isn't it, you love him," mocked Katie.

"Oh Katie are those insults all you've got," sparred Hermione, not letting on how much Katie's words had hurt.

"I've always got plenty more Granger, but I think I made my point, stay away from George," she said.

"Or what?" challenged Hermione.

"Oh Granger you don't want to know," she said.

Hermione's shoulders sank, she felt disappointed and betrayed that George would ever want to date someone like Katie.

"I can see that stupid brain of yours working Granger, if you don't believe me come by The Leaky Cauldron at 7, then you'll see whose really won," said Katie before leaving the shop.

Hermione sighed, her morning had got considerably worse. Now she had realised that she loved George, the prospect of him seeing Katie hurt all the more. She should have known that she would not be enough for George but that aside she had hoped he would have told her.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, Clara came in at lunch, clearly curious at Hermione's sullen mood but she did not say anything. She merely let her boss struggle through all she was feeling and knew she would be there when Hermione wanted to talk.

* * *

George stopped by in the afternoon, Hermione was both happy and sad to see him. She had hoped that George would tell her it was all a lie and that he wasn't really going out with Katie but alas fate was not kind to her this time.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed while hugging her, 'No animal print today?" he questioned.

"Not yet," she replied quietly.

George was confused by her quietness but didn't dwell on it longer than necessary.

"Guess who I saw today," said George.

"I don't know," replied Hermione.

George frowned, Hermione didn't seem happy, "Katie Bell! We're going to the pub later for drinks and a catch up," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "drinks and a catch up," she mumbled, "sure."

"What did you say? I missed that," said George.

"Oh nothing," replied Hermione.

"What's wrong?" asked George.

"Nothing George, I'm sure you and Katie will be very happy together," whispered Hermione.

"Hermione, Katie and I we aren't together, it's just drinks," replied George.

"Yeah, of course," replied Hermione.

Hermione knew she should be happy for George and that he was only calling it 'drinks and a catch up' to spare her feelings but try as she might she couldn't muster the courage to feel happy for George. George and Katie wouldn't be a good couple, they would be explosive in a bad way, and the only girl Hermione could see George with was herself.

"Look I got to get back to the shop, I'll see you later alright?" said George.

"Yeah, see you later," replied Hermione.

* * *

Hermione had promised herself that she wouldn't go to The Leaky Cauldron, it wouldn't do her any good, it would only make her more upset and depressed. Yet that's exactly where she ended up despite her best intentions to stay clear of the place.

She felt that she just had to see them, if she saw George happy then she knew she would have to leave well alone. If George was happy then Hermione could move on knowing that.

She peeked into the pub looking for George, she finally found him on one of those cosy corner tables. Katie was all over him, pawing him like a sickly puppy, it made Hermione's heart clench painfully, and then she saw George's face. It was not one of contentment or enjoyment; rather it looked like he was trying not to vomit. It could have just been a trick of the light but Hermione didn't want to think of it like that. If she could feel even the tiniest bit of hope then she was going to take it.

She left then; she'd seen all she wanted to see.

She was home before Harry but she knew Charlie was around in the house somewhere. She didn't really care, she changed into a tank top, some shorts and long knee high socks with blue owls on them. She proceeded to the lounge where instead of picking up a book from the shelf, she turned on some music up to full volume.

She began dancing around, arms in the air, singing loudly without a care in the world. Sometimes she felt like music was the best medicine; there was a song for every situation. Dancing around to the music definitely made Hermione feel better and she was so absorbed in dancing that she didn't realise she had an audience. It wasn't until she heard someone clapping that she turned around and realised that she wasn't the only one in the room.

"Didn't know you had it in you Granger," George smirked.

"George!" shrieked Hermione.

"So you broke out the animal print then," said George.

"Of course, you know I have to annoy you in some way every day," replied Hermione.

"I'd say it's more amusing than annoying," said George smiling.

"You're back early," said Hermione. "How was it?" she asked tried not to sound too interested.

"Not good," replied George.

"Oh, how so?" asked Hermione.

"We seemed to have got our wires crossed. I thought we were meeting up as friends for a catch up. She thought we were meeting up so she could throw herself at me and see if she could get her gold digging hands on my money," said George matter-of-factly.

"So you aren't dating her?" asked Hermione.

"Hell no, what gave you that idea?" asked George.

Hermione mumbled something that George couldn't hear, but he summarised what she'd said anyhow.

"Katie paid you a visit didn't she," said George, Hermione nodded.

"She was never nice to you at school, I always noticed but I would have thought that she would have grown out of those tendencies, apparently I was wrong," said George.

"She's your friend, there is nothing wrong with wanting to see the best in her," replied Hermione.

"She's more an acquaintance than a friend. Besides I've got you, I don't need any more female friends," said George.

Hermione smiled weakly chastising herself for falling for Katie's words so quickly.

"You're the only girl for me," said George looking down at Hermione fondly.

Hermione smiled a real smile at George; she just wished he meant something more than a friend when he said those words to her.


	5. Red Hippos

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter

 **Red Hippos**

 **AN:** Two separate lines = a change in pov.

She woke to find herself dressed all in white, the dress long, flowing and simple, the veil short and transparent. There were flowers in her hand and a rather handsome man before her, though his face was distorted. They had all come for her wedding reception, she could see her Mother waving happily while clutching a camera and ordering people about. She saw her Father off to the side, talking to the other gentlemen and pretending that he wasn't as emotional as he felt.

Her Mother insisted that they have photos of all the family members, sorted into height order and all standing sideways. The photos seemed to go on forever, each getting more and more ludicrous, however she didn't have the heart to tell her Mother off when she was having so much fun.

She turned away from the excitement and the love of her supposed husband and found herself stranded on a broken dock. The only way across to the other side was to swing across by a long rope. The thought of swinging across a sea of water in her wedding dress made her pale considerably, but she suddenly had an overwhelming desire to be reunited with her husband and she knew she'd only get to see him if she was brave enough to swing across.

She screamed loud and shrilly as she swung from one side to the other, the first time she hadn't swung far enough but the second time she managed to reach the other side and let go before she fell over or plummeted to her death. The land on the other side of the broken dock was different, and she wasn't entirely sure where she was.

As she moved she passed various people in various levels of distress. There was a man weeping over a box of journals and pictures, a woman whispering sweet nothings to thin air, a child calling for its Mother, and an old man watching with sad eyes as the world past him by and forgot about him. One after the other she encountered people who had lost love or never found it. Her heart felt heavy with the sorrow of these people, she wanted desperately to find her husband, yet he seemed to be nowhere in sight and the air was becoming thick and clouded.

How was she to find her husband in this clouded mess of a place, she called out to him but he didn't answer. A flash of red here, another flash there, like something was stalking her and she couldn't help but fear the worst. As she became more distressed, her vision became worse, the fog became thicker and she found she couldn't breathe.

Falling, falling into the blackness, she screamed his name, begging that he would find her and save her from this destiny, always the flash of red taunting her, mocking her, till the world went black.

Hermione woke up with a start, the bed sheets tangled in up on her legs, sweat dripping from her body. Somebody was banging loudly on her door, banishing her mind from the terror it had just felt.

"Come in," she spoke somewhat shakily.

The door opened and Charlie appeared, panting slightly, a look of concern on his face.

"Blimey Hermione, are you alright?," he asked, taking long strides to reach her bed quickly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?," she asked.

"I heard you scream, really loud, and then it just kept going. I thought something terrible was happening to you, then when I got up here I kept knocking but I couldn't open the door," said Charlie.

"I screamed?" she sounded confused, "Oh, I thought that was just my dream," she muttered.

"Dream?" asked Charlie.

"Hmm, I had a dream, a nightmare maybe."

"Oh," said Charlie, "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"No," replied Hermione quickly.

Charlie smiled, "Well I'm here if you change your mind."

"Thanks Charlie."

"Listen," began Charlie, nervously rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, "I heard what happened yesterday with Katie and George, are you alright?"

Hermione sighed, in all honestly she'd forgotten all about that, remembering it only bought back the fact that George's words meant something different to her than the way he'd said them.

"I'm OK Charlie," said Hermione quietly.

Charlie didn't seem convinced, but he was one of those people who knew when not to push someone, he knew (and Hermione knew) that he'd be there waiting when she was ready to talk.

"So what animal related clothing are you wearing today?" he asked in a teasing manor.

She punched him lightly on the arm, "Red Hippo arm warmers," she replied.

Charlie raised his eyebrow mockingly.

"What?" she cried, "It's cold out today."

"How would you know? You haven't even gotten out of bed yet."

"How do I know? Hello brightest witch of her age," she responded teasingly.

"Oh how could I have been so stupid!?" he exclaimed.

"Don't worry Charlie, happens to the best of us," said Hermione using a singsong voice.

Charlie chuckled (manly), Hermione could brighten up anyone's day.

"Now get out," she said, punching him on the arm.

He pretended to be hurt, 'What was that for? Why am I being kicked from your room?" he cried.

"Because I want a shower and you aren't staying for that!" she replied.

"Fine, I'm going," said Charlie, leaving her to it.

On his way down the corridor (still chuckling), he bumped into George.

"What's made you so happy this morning?" asked George.

"Hermione," replied Charlie.

"What's she done?"

"Kicked me out of her room, apparently I'm not allowed to watch her in the shower," said Charlie – noting with glee the way George clenched his hands into fists and the colour rose to his face.

"George, what's up with your face it's all red," said Charlie innocently.

"What? Oh nothing," replied George, storming down the corridor with as much noise as possible, mumbling about his angry thoughts as he went.

 _Oh this could be so much fun_ thought Charlie, the perfect way to start a day!

* * *

So since seeing his brother this morning, George had been over analysing his words for the better part of an hour – his work lay untouched and unfinished on the desk before him. George wasn't a guy to fall in love, that didn't mean he didn't want to fall in love; it just meant that it hadn't happened yet. Sure he'd had plenty of girlfriends but none of them had 'lit the spark' or given him more than just casual fun. He supposed he was that kind of guy, the one that flirted with all the girls and got through them equally as quickly. He was nice about it thought, treated them all with respect and was a one woman guy.

Hermione Granger was an enigma, he'd long since thought that he would never find the one he was destined to be with (or some other such soppy declaration line), Fred always used to say that his time was coming and that he just had to hold on, for when it did happen it was sure to be explosive. Hermione was pushing all his buttons and it was driving him crazy. Though he may have admitted to himself that he did indeed have feeling for the young witch, he was no closer to acting upon those feelings.

That disastrous evening with Katie had proven that much, he'd tried to tell Hermione that she was the only girl for him; he'd hoped that she'd have leaped into his arm upon hearing that declaration and shower him with kisses. However, that evidently didn't happen. Instead he saw a wash of emotions flit across her face, most importantly crushing disappointment, and then a blushing fake smile.

He supposed that sort of hurt, having her not realise how he meant those words to sound but then they'd never talked about being anything other than friends so perhaps it was a bad move on his part.

Give George a prank, an invention, an idea and he was set. Those were things that came naturally to him, he was well versed in what it took to make, work and complete those things. Wooing and flirting also came naturally, as did burning food. Planning the seduction of his best friend (who he now fancied – madly) wasn't part of his Curriculum Vite. He was quickly realising that he knew nothing really of matters of the heart, and therefore had no idea on how to woo Hermione.

Any normal wizard would have asked friends or family for help but George wasn't a normal wizard and he couldn't stand the looks on Harry and Charlie's faces if he did actually ask for help. He imagined the conversation would start with 'We told you so' and end with some dramatic plan that would undoubtedly go wrong and end up making him look the fool. No, George was in this boat alone, and by Jove; he was going to rock the boat all the way to the shore.

She hadn't been in to see him, Hermione that is. He suspected she was avoiding him after yesterday, but she always made a point on dropping in on him each day. Well, George was a man of (little) action, if Hermione refused to go to him then he would go to her. Besides he hadn't visited her shop for a while, and he knew however much he found it annoying, he was actually a little interested to see what animal related clothing she would be wearing today.

Turns out that when he arrived Hermione had seen him coming and hidden in the back room leaving Clara to entertain an annoyed George, George was having none of that and promptly shouted, "Not going to show off your animal print for me Granger?!"

Two pieces of rolled up material were thrown at him in response, untangling them he was presented with red hippo printed hand warmers – ridiculous.

"She's not going to come out is she?" George asked Clara.

"I doubt it," replied Clara, "She been mumbling all day, I caught a few of her words but I honestly didn't understand."

"What did you hear?" asked George.

"There was something about a wedding, flashes of red, some very rude comments about your brother, and then a lot of moaning about you and why it had to be her," said Clara.

George had smirked when Clara mentioned Hermione had been moaning about him, his mind (as any boy's would) had immediately fallen into the gutter but his smirk had dropped once Clara had finished speaking.

George sighed heavily, picking non-existent flint off his jacket, "If you could please let her know that I intend on cooking dinner if she doesn't come and talk to me by closing time today, I'd be grateful," said George.

Clara smiled at George's antics, he really knew Hermione too well, there was no way she would risk his cooking by not talking to him. Chances are, he'd get his conversation well before closing time, as the last time George had attempted to cook; he'd blown up half the kitchen. Clara rolled her eyes at George's retreating back; dear George and Hermione were certainly leading a merry dance around each other.

* * *

Hermione huffed and puffed, she'd tried all day to ignore George's threat of cooking but it was like a nagging remark in the back of her mind. She was stupid of course to have let a mere dream affect her so much. She couldn't help herself though; the dream had been too strong, so powerful, that it had kept irritating her all day. Besides, she couldn't honestly risk the fact that George might actually cook food. She didn't think the kitchen could last another blast. She liked cooking, she wasn't forced into it, she actually enjoyed it – besides, and the boys always bought her gifts and presents as thanks for her daily cooking.

So in she walked to George's shop, ignoring the young children running around and the spelled objects flying around in the air. She knew he'd be out the back in the inventing room; he usually spent all his afternoons there sketching, modelling and rambling to himself. It was the best time for him to get all his anger and annoyance out into something productive.

Hermione's hair was more wild and untamed than it usually was a sign that she was irritated. Her fingers cracked and twitched as she opened the door into George's inventing room. It was almost as if he could feel her presence and knew exactly where she was because he turned around almost as soon as she opened the door.

"Finished ignoring me Granger?" he smirked, his tone challenging.

"I wasn't ignoring you, I was busy," Hermione huffed.

"Of course you were dear. I mean your shop has practically been flooded with customers all day," he mocked.

"Fine, so perhaps I was avoiding you a little," she replied.

"Why? Because of yesterday?," he asked concerned.

"Yes and no. I was being silly, I had a dream that scared me," she mumbled.

"Is that why Charlie was in your room this morning?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"You should have come to me, I would have comforted you," he said.

Hermione said nothing for her chest had turned into knots.

"I did mean what I said yesterday when I said you were the only girl for me," whispered George, coming to stand before Hermione and stroking her cheek with his finger.

Hermione blushed brightly before coming to her senses, "I've got to go," she said quickly, running from the arms she so longed to hold.

George watched her go with a smile on his face. She may have run but he'd get her yet.


	6. Yellow Dogs

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter

 **Yellow Dogs**

George had tired eyes, he'd stayed up almost all night researching (or rather watching) several television shows that had strong romantic leads, so that he'd have some way of knowing how he could woo and claim Hermione. He'd stuck to shows that had a romance between a jock and a geek or a prankster and a geek or a badass and a geek – you can see the theme.

It was terribly horrifying to realise that George didn't have enough charm to charm Hermione himself, but by watching the television he managed to avoid the humiliation and embarrassment of having to ask another person like Charlie or Harry.

He chucked overly romantic ideas out the window and gave up his subtle route as clearly Hermione didn't get it. Speaking of Hermione, as George walked upstairs to bed, he saw her door was open. He was only a man and couldn't help but take a peek; she seemed to have fallen asleep halfway through getting ready for bed. She was still wearing her day clothes and hadn't even managed to get under her duvet. Instead she was wrapped in the most hideous blanket; it was a cream colour that had assorted yellow dogs on it.

George snorted to himself, her obsession with these animal prints were really getting out of hand. He didn't understand why she was determined to try out all the products before selling them. Clara had mentioned that they'd already had a ton of orders for some of the items already uncovered, however Hermione had still refused to start selling the items. When George had tentatively asked Hermione why she was still withdrawing the products, her response was that the designer had a particular day in which they wanted to release all their products for public sale, so she was not allowed to release them until that exact day.

Shaking his head, George moved from Hermione's open doorway and walked the remaining distance to his own room. George stripped down and changed into his sleep ware. Once in bed, he already felt relaxed and ready for sleep.

 _George felt peculiar, the land around him would not settle into something substantial. It was all misty and disorientated. Someone called through the mist, George could not place who it was but it sounded familiar as if from a distant memory._

 _'George, George' the voice called, louder now as it approached._

 _George turned around meaning to whip out his wand as he went when he realised his wand was not on his person, thoroughly disconcerted he scrambled around looking for anything that he could defend himself with, but found nothing._

 _'George, you would take arms against your own brother' said the voice scandalised._

 _George turned slowly, not believing his ears._

 _'Fred?' he whispered._

 _'Who did you think it was' replied his brother smiling._

 _'You aren't real' stuttered George._

 _'Pish posh!' said Fred, 'Just because this is a mere dream doesn't make it any less real'._

 _George, finally over his shock was able to smirk at his brother, 'So what power has sent you to my dreams?' he asked._

 _'Not so much a power dear brother, but rather a small bushy haired witch' he replied._

 _'Hermione sent you?' asked George._

 _'No, but I am here because of her' replied his brother._

 _'Fred?' asked George confused._

 _'What is holding you back from Hermione George?' asked Fred._

 _George blushed ever so slightly, 'Nothing' he replied._

 _'Yet you do not act' said Fred._

 _'It is complicated'._

 _'Don't lie George, your feelings for her are returned. The longer you wait the more impossible it will become'._

 _'When did you become so wise?' asked George._

 _'When I looked on life another way. Be happy George' said Fred._

 _George watched the mist engulf his brother, taking him away. Though George could no longer see anything he was not afraid as he once was. Seeing his brother had been a great shock to him. It was like forgetting that Fred had died at all, so it was sad to see him disappear again but it also bought George some peace. It was pleasant knowing that his brother was happy where he was and it gave George strength to continue on alone._

George sat bolt upright in bed, heart thumping and sweat dripping from places he didn't even know existed, his dream still so vivid in his mind, Fred's smiling face imprinted and to never be forgotten.

Trust Fred to stick his nose in, but then again Fred had always known the right thing to say to George. George had been coping well enough without his brother but it was good to know that his brother could still offer him just advice. Seeing Fred again had warmed George's heart, something that only a certain witch had been doing recently.

Speaking of said witch, George looked at his clock, the time read; 7:45am, Hermione would be up now, and hopefully wouldn't have had a run in with Charlie half naked. In George's opinion Hermione always had a rather boring breakfast, oatmeal, porridge, an apple. There was no fun or excitement in her breakfast – as there should have been. On one of his many trips into the muggle world with Harry, George had discovered a shop that sold sweets from America. This according to Harry was really cool because hardly any of those American sweets were generally sold in England.

So George was introduced to the wonderful world of pop tarts. He couldn't believe they came in so many different flavours, he felt sure that Hermione would like at least one of them. George's way of picking out the perfect pop tart for Hermione was done in a way someone might pick out perfume for another. He thought about the way Hermione smelt and picked the pop tart accordingly. Thus he ended up with strawberry and vanilla pop tarts and cinnamon and vanilla pop tarts. George felt sure that Hermione wouldn't be able to resist these.

He'd waited and not revealed the pop tarts for some time, but having seen Fred in his dream had pushed George into admitting that the time was right for pop tarts.

He was glad to see that Hermione was already seated in the kitchen, though fortunately for him, she had yet to eat breakfast.

"Good morrow Hermione, thou fairest Lady," he said comically.

Hermione took in his overly bright nature and raised an eyebrow, "George," she said.

"No breakfast yet?" he asked.

'I have not yet decided," she replied.

"Have no fear dear maiden, for I come with the answer to your troubles," he declared.

[If anyone were to ask him later why he was talking like this, he would honestly be able to say that he had no idea, but it seemed like something good to do in the moment].

Hermione looked at George suspiciously, "You have food for me?" she enquired, "How can I trust it won't do something to me?"

George put a hand over his heart and gasped, "Thou fairest maiden doubts me, I am awash with hurt and pain. I only wished to see her smile while she partakes in the breakfast I created," he said with a smile and a wink.

Hermione glared at him and George briefly dropped the act.

"Seriously though, I bought it at a shop in muggle London, ask Harry I was with him."

His answer seemed to placate Hermione for she looked less suspicious and more resigned at his behaviour.

"What have you got then?" she asked.

With a flourish of his hand the pop tarts appeared, "Ta-da," he exclaimed.

Hermione looked at the offending object with mild disgust.

"Do you know how many calories are in those?" she said.

"Live a little Granger," he replied.

She hesitated.

"I bought these for you, it would be very poor taste for you to refuse them now, I will remain here until you eat them," said George stubbornly.

Hermione huffed, she knew that to be a heavy loaded threat, so she reached forward, took the pop tart and bit into it. For a moment nothing was said until George faintly heard a little moan escape from Hermione's mouth, she looked mortified that such a sound had come from her.

"Told you they were good," said George in a sing song manner.

A small smile graced Hermione's features; though it was not big it was enough to let George know that all was forgiven between them.


	7. Purple Zebras

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter

 **Purple Zebra**

Though the most dreaded day of the year for some or the most wonderful day of the year for others was fast approaching, Hermione couldn't bring herself to wear the fabled pink or red. Instead her favoured choice for the day was purple Zebra short shorts, though the weather hadn't been particularly warm of late, she felt the shorts would be best worn today. Honestly it was just another excuse to wear the animal patterned clothing, she'd already had a mass of orders on the items she'd already been pictured seeing and couldn't wait to actually start selling things.

Hermione wasn't a big fan of Valentine's Day, she wasn't a big believer in it nor was she a great hater of it. She just didn't really understand why it was celebrated so much, surely everyday with the person you love should be special, so one day shouldn't stand out to be more special than any other. Besides, nowadays it seemed to be so commercial and all about making money rather than celebrating the love you shared with another.

Perhaps Hermione was biased, she hadn't experienced Valentine's Day the way it should be experienced, and she hadn't encountered the sweeping gestures, the romantic nights out, the words of whispered worship. No, she'd encountered a drunken kiss in the dark and a 'sorry they ran out of flowers'. But being typically Hermione, she'd learnt – through books – that those predictably romantic tales that made every girl squeak with un-quenched desire were just that tales, what she needed was a man to show her what she was missing out on but even a man who she had deep feelings for was just a man – would he be able to rise to her expectations or would he fall without ever reaching her?

It was with a groan that she dragged herself to the kitchen, hair still messed and damp from her shower, she didn't really care. The kitchen was empty when she arrived save for one red rose and a plate of marmite on toast. Hermione didn't know whether to groan, sit down and eat the toast, or turn on her heel and go back to bed. She opted for the groan and was still standing before the rose and toast when Harry entered.

"Whatcha doing there?" he asked.

"Groaning," she replied.

"Why?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious, that!" she exclaimed pointing to what lay before her.

She watched Harry glance over at the ready made breakfast and then laugh.

"What," she growled.

"Nothing, just forgot your hatred for Valentine's Day," he said.

"I don't hate Valentine's Day," she replied.

"So that would be why you haven't accepted the rose or eaten the toast," he said.

"Sod off Harry," she replied.

"Look, I know you aren't a fan of the day for whatever weirdly bizarre reasons you have thought of but someone is obviously trying to give it a go and make their feelings known so why don't you just give in and let them."

"When did you get so wise?" she asked.

"Always surprised, I'll have you know I've been wise for ages," he said.

"You know who sent the rose don't you," she asked.

"Of course," he replied.

"And you won't tell me?"

"You already know."

"Perhaps," she replied.

Harry left Hermione to her toast, which she began to tentatively eat in a manner which suggested she didn't think it was safe. She looked at the rose with mixed feelings. On one hand it was – she could admit – everything she wanted, though on the other hand it bought forward feelings of vulnerability and confusion. Then there was that stupid annoying part of her brain – the part she wished would shut up – that was saying how commercial Valentine's Day was and that a gift given didn't have any true meaning behind it, it was just another obligation to give.

Checking the time she realised she needed to leave now or she would be late for work, opening the front door she was confronted with another rose, and upon arrival to her shop, yet another rose was taped to the front door. She carefully filled a vase full of water to place the roses in, though she would admit it to no one, Valentine's Day was beginning to have an effect on her.

"Those are nice flowers," said Clara as she arrived.

"Yes," muttered Hermione.

"Who sent them?" she asked.

"No note," replied Hermione.

"Ahh mysterious," replied Clara. "Who do you want it to be?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" replied Hermione.

"The sender of the flowers, who do you want it to be?" she asked.

"I refuse to share my thoughts and feelings with you, you'd only go off and conspire with Harry and Charlie," she said.

"How rude I would not do that," huffed Clara.

Hermione glared at her.

"Ok fine, I might be inclined to do that once or twice," she said twiddling her thumbs, then bowing to the pressure of Hermione's glare. "Fine, you can't trust me with your thoughts and feelings, I just go running to Harry and Charlie. Happy now!" she said.

"Very," replied Hermione.

Hermione's day proceeded quite nicely, though no more flowers appeared, a box of chocolates, an adorable teddy and an unsigned Valentine's card did. Clara kept out of her way for most of the day – likely she didn't want to tease Hermione to the point that she might lose her job – and Hermione was grateful for the peacefulness.

Hermione knew who she wanted the sender to be, though it was really no secret who held her heart, she dearly hoped it was George that had sent her all these gifts or she'd look really silly with what she was about to do – i.e. go and thank George for everything and possibly see what else there was…

* * *

George was minding his own business in his shop, it was quiet today, everyone had more important things to do than come to a joke shop, and they were all out with their love ones. He had to admit his plan was going very well, he'd been a bit unsure when Harry suggested Valentine's Day, in the Wizarding world Valentine's Day was a bit different than the commercial muggle way but Harry had convinced him that muggle was better where Hermione was concerned. It hadn't been all that difficult to arrange, a bit of research on that web thing Harry kept making him use and he'd understood what needed to be done. Of course he hadn't realised that most muggle men stick to buying just one present for their loved ones and not a large variety of presents but then when has George ever been ordinary – a clue, he hasn't.

Anyhow, he was just deliberating his next move when the one who held his heart walked through the door and boy did she look hot. George had never noticed how amazing Hermione's legs were, but in those – he noted 'annoying' – purple zebra short shorts, her legs seemed to go on for miles and never ended. He could feel his male hormones coming to the fore and willed himself not to drool down his face. She looked – cliché aside – good enough to eat.

"Hi George," she said, standing – he might add – in his personal space.

"Hi," he replied though why his voice had to sound all high pitched and squeaky he didn't know.

"I wanted to..to..urh," she said, struggling with her words.

"To thank me?" he asked.

"Yeah, to thank you," she replied.

"For?" he asked, his eyes twinkling at her uncomfortable blushing state.

"The flowers," she replied.

Not bothering to torment her further, he replied, "I'm glad you liked them."

She blushed prettily at him, "I liked the other stuff as well."

"I wasn't sure if you would but I'm glad I got it right," he said.

"George," she whispered, they were so close, and she could feel his breath on her face.

And then, suddenly, as time slowed almost to a stop, George moved away from her, the air got cold and Hermione blinked in confusion.

"You me, tonight, karaoke?" he asked with a smile.

"I…what?" said Hermione.

"A date Granger, tonight, at eight o'clock," he said.

She stood with a gormless look upon her face, it was so adorable he struggled not to laugh, "Come on love, you need to get back to work,! he said as he directing her to the door and away from his shop. He laughed as he watched her walk away with a dizzy expression.

* * *

Eight o'clock came faster than Hermione ever thought possible, since she'd returned from seeing George her mind hadn't really made much sense. She'd tried to sort out the jumble in her head but all she could think of was what she would wear tonight, should it be short and black or long and flowing, making clothes choices really shouldn't be this difficult.

Harry passed her as she rushed from the shower, hair wet and towel attached to her body, he chuckled at her state of dress, he would never have thought her to be so nervous about a date but then had she ever been on the right date?

The answer was no, Hermione was treating in unknown waters and she was terrified. It was the usual worries that someone gets on a first date; would it go well? Would they have enough things to talk about? Would he get bored? Would there be a kiss?

Five hundred outfit choices later Hermione had eventually decided on what to wear, she thought it was probably not a good idea to wear one of her patterned animal print items of clothing. Though George often found her animal print clothing humorous, it didn't exactly scream 'date night'. So instead she went for a lacy to the knee dark purple dress. For her it seemed appropriate, it was of reasonable length and it wouldn't make her seem too slutty, nor was it too long – and it didn't make her look like an old maid.

They lived in the same house but still George knocked on the front door and waited for Harry to let him in, it was then Harry's job to tell Hermione that George had arrived so that she could make her grand entrance down the staircase to meet George. The look of complete wonderment on George's face led Hermione to believe that she had made the right decision with her outfit choice.

"You look amazing," he whispered.

She blushed, "Well you always look so dashing, I had to make an effort," she replied.

George had a bursting comment that she didn't have to make an effort – but thought it best not to say it.

"Come on then love, let's get going," he said, guiding her from the house, giving Harry a cheeky wink and praying the night would go well.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Not far," he replied.

He apparated them with her approval and before long they stood before a brightly lit karaoke bar. George smiled at her amused expression but said nothing else. A few awkward moments and drinks later and the date was actually going quite well. It was so bizarre for them to be awkward around each other, normally it was so easy but put them in the setting of a romantic situation, and they became completely out of control, unable to talk without moments of extended silence.

Hermione managed to convinced George to sing karaoke, it was a horrible thing to watch, he really was awful at it but it made Hermione laugh the way George put jokes into the song and continued with it despite the fact that he was so bad.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked some time later.

"Yes," she replied.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I always have fun with you," she replied.

"I never have fun without you."

"Liar," she giggled.

"Hush you, was trying to be romantic," he said.

"I'm sorry," she whispered pulling him close.

The lights of the karaoke bar drifted into silence, the voices became distant sounds, all Hermione could see was the detailed face of George, his eyes sparkling bright, his mouth smirking deviously, his head bent towards her own. Millimetres apart, Hermione could see every inch of his face, their breath mingled with each other, time stopped.

Their foreheads touched, just another step and…


	8. Teal Lambs

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter

 **Teal Lambs**

* * *

 ** _Recap…_**

 _The lights of the karaoke bar drifted into silence, the voices became distant sounds, all Hermione could see was the detailed face of George, his eyes sparkling bright, his mouth smirking deviously, his head bent towards her own. Millimetres apart, Hermione could see every inch of his face, their breath mingled with each other, time stopped._

 _Their foreheads touched, just another step and…_

* * *

Hermione felt George's lips mould against her own, she'd never had a kiss that awoke so much fire and passion inside of her and she doubted she would ever be able to forget the feeling of this kiss again. George was soft but insistent as he kissed her with all his worth. A kiss is a powerful thing when fuelled by emotions, and there were a lot of emotions in this kiss, all those pent up emotions that hadn't been explored were now releasing themselves as Hermione and George kissed. Wolf whistles surrounded them from occupants of the karaoke bar that had seen the couple lock lips, and the kiss seemed to go on forever, neither wanting to end it. However, there comes a point when breathing becomes essential, and (far too soon for Hermione's liking) they broke the kiss and came up for air.

Hermione's face was blushing red and George had a look of hunger in his eyes. Perhaps it was the alcohol affecting their minds that had made them drop all barriers and commit to their emotions but either way, there was no room for regret at this time.

As George rested his palm against Hermione's cheek, she leaned into it, desperate for any contact he would give.

"Let's go home," he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her back.

She merely nodded, not quite certain she could speak yet.

The cold night air outside the bar broke the intimate situation that Hermione and George had gotten themselves into, they returned to their hyper alcohol induced personalities, shouting and giggling about this and that. They 'tried' to be quiet when they returned to Grimmauld Place, knowing the other occupants of the house would be asleep but it was far too amusing knowing they had to be quiet that they ended up making a lot of noise. It didn't help that George was belting out random songs at the top of his voice, or that Hermione was shouting at him to shut up.

They retired into the library, the fire was still on but fortunately there was no alcohol present for them to drink. George's mind was running rampant with questions, ranging from bizarre to serious.

"Why do cows moo Hermione?" he asked. "What is a games console Hermione?", "Why are lots of muggles all pasty and white?", and "Why do muggles celebrate so many days Hermione?"

Then he hit a question that had potential alarm bells despite their loose minds.

"I think I would like to marry you Hermione, would you like to marry me? No will you marry me?" asked George.

Hermione spluttered as her brain tried to take in the question, she was confused, was the question something serious? Or was it a George joke. "I urh, I," she muttered most annoyingly.

"We could have lots of children, imagine that your smarts and my red hair," he continued.

Hermione's brain was still struggling to comprehend what was being said but she managed to reply all the same, "Not too many children I hope."

"That's the spirit," said George, "Knew you wanted to marry me," he said cheekily.

The rest of the conversation was lost on the both of them as their rambling increased and all sense of proper talk disappeared. It wasn't until the wee hours of the morning that the thought of bed was finally uttered, Hermione disappearing – still quite out of it – and George (slightly more sober) and remembering what they'd been talking about, hoping to all God's in the high heavens that Hermione didn't remember and panic.

* * *

They call it the morning after for a reason. Sometimes they call it the walk of shame – but please! Hermione had some dignity. Her head was throbbing though, and her memory was somewhat impaired except for the embarrassing moment when she seemed to have thrown herself at George and snogged him senseless. What he must think of her behaviour – she didn't dare think. She was mortified and now George knew without a doubt that Hermione had feelings for him, she dreaded the thought of seeing him again. And the thought of remembering something else from last night made her shudder. When it came to alcohol, Hermione was not strong, she was a lightweight, she tended to become very giggly and tell all her secrets.

She was very glad that she'd woken up safe, alone and completely dressed. Sure George was a gentleman but everything goes a bit squiffy when alcohol was involved. Hermione wished she'd had the foresight to brew a hangover potion, as it was she hadn't and had to resort to plain old paracetamols to help cure her thumping head. Oh and she just realised she was supposed to be at the shop an hour ago – oh well, Clara had the keys to open up and was perfectly capable on her own.

It was a slow moving Hermione that made her way down to the kitchen, moaning occasionally in pain. She had hoped the kitchen would be empty so that she could suffer in silence but fate chose not to grant that request.

"Here rises the partying girl of last night," said Harry.

"Shut up? You're talking too loud," came Hermione's response.

"Bit hungover?"

"Don't mock me Harry, I can still hex you six ways from Sunday," she growled.

"Where's George?"

Hermione groaned, "Don't know."

"You guys were definitely having fun last night," said Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"You woke Charlie and me up when you returned, kept shouting about the wedding you were going to have along with how many children you produce."

"We did not!" she cried.

"Did too! Though I managed to fall asleep again after you started to name all your future children."

"That's it, I'm going back to bed!"

"Later Mione," said Harry, chuckling at her retreating figure.

* * *

Hermione lay on her bed feeling even more embarrassed. It was one thing to kiss George but quite another thing entirely to have reached a level of drunkenness to start talking of weddings and children – Hermione really hoped that George didn't remember that part of the conversation. She didn't think she'd ever felt this mortified – well except for that one date she'd had with Cormac McLaggen.

Hermione stayed in her room up until lunchtime when her stomach started to protest about being empty. She felt her risk of meeting someone was slim at this point of the day but oh how wrong she was. Standing in all his cheeky glory was George making himself a ham salad sarnie.

"Mione," he whispered, his voice cracking. Somehow he seemed in a better shape that she was – he'd probably had accept to a hangover potion.

"George," she replied her voice just as cracked.

Then the mother of all awkward silences began, the two on opposite sides of the kitchen table just stood, eyes locked, staring at one another.

Hermione felt over heated, her heart was working overtime and her palms were sweaty. She desperately wanted to say something – anything.

"George," she uttered and at the same time he said, "Hermione."

"You go first," he said.

"No you," she replied.

"Did you have fun last night?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied.

"I confess I don't remember much but…"

"Me neither," she blurted out, not seeing the hurt was over George's face.

"Oh," he said. "Well, better get back to work."

Hermione watched him go with a heavy heart, perhaps she shouldn't have lied so blatantly, this was such a pickle.

* * *

It was a pickle that went on for near to two weeks and it drove Harry and Charlie up the wall, instead of the kiss between Hermione and George forcing them to admit to each other what everyone else had realised, they'd used it as an excuse to head in the opposite direction, bury their emotions even further and avoid each other completely. Well, Harry and Charlie thought that enough was enough, it was unpleasant to live in the same house as the two other occupants, conversations were strained and the state of cooking had become unbearable to live with. It was time to take drastic action, Harry and Charlie had refrained from meddling for so long, they could no longer stand by and let nature take its course. If they waited for fate to lend a helping hand, they may well have become old and ragged, nearing deaths door before those two idiots finally realised what was standing before them.

Clara was worried by the scheming going on between Harry and Charlie; they had cornered her in the shop on Hermione's day off and asked if she wanted to join them in their meddling. She had pointedly refused, knowing for a fact that their meddling never worked and she didn't want to be on Hermione's bad side when everything hit the fan. Part of Clara did want to warn Hermione but in the end she decided to remain quiet, even if Hermione was mad at what Harry and Charlie were thinking of doing, it would at least – hopefully – end this dancing around broken glass act that they'd all been doing.

It was actually far easier to capture both Hermione and George; Harry reckoned that they had spent so much time – while avoiding each other – _thinking_ of each other that they weren't really in their own minds. Whatever the reason for their lack of common sense and thinking, Harry was immensely please with it, for it made stunning the two all the more easy.

After that it was a simple job of moving both Hermione and George into one of the many broom closets, locking the door and placing a variety of enchantments upon it. The most unique of all was the charm that would eventually open the door if only Hermione and George would realise it…


	9. Pink Elephants 20

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter

 **Pink Elephants 2.0**

"George."

"Yeah Mione."

"You have three seconds to move your hand off my butt."

"Urh sorry Mione," stammered George trying to shift his hand away.

"George!" Hermione warned.

"I'm sorry but there isn't a lot of space here!"

"Urgh, fine! Just don't squeeze your hand or anything," she said. "Where are we?"

"Duh, a broom closet," said George sarcastically.

"Why would we be in, oh those little dare devils I'm going to kill them!" she shouted.

"Who?"

"Harry and Charlie," growled Hermione.

"Again, why?" asked George.

"This is their doing I can feel it, they meddled!" said Hermione, seething mad.

"Meddled?" asked George.

"Yeah, you know, constructed this," she said waving her arms as much as she could in gesture.

"I don't think they would meddle this far," said George.

"Please! We've probably been driving them crazy," said Hermione.

"Well you were the one avoiding me!" yelled George.

"No I wasn't!" replied Hermione angrily.

"You know you really hurt me Hermione," said George.

Hermione paused, "What did I do?" she asked.

'You told me you didn't remember anything from that night," he said.

'You said you couldn't remember anything either," replied Hermione.

'I lied."

"What?!" cried Hermione.

"I lied, I wanted to see if you felt the same way, obviously you didn't or you wouldn't have lied about what had happened," said George moodily.

"Please!" said Hermione with a growl, "It's not like you gave me a choice, you just came right out and said you didn't remember anything like you didn't want it to become common knowledge," said Hermione.

"I just told you I wanted to see if you felt the same way," huffed George.

"Oh of course, and you couldn't just come out and ask me, that would be way too terrifying," said Hermione sarcastically.

"What? So you're saying if I'd come straight out and asked you then your answer would have been different?" asked George.

"Well it doesn't matter now does it," replied Hermione.

"Why not?" asked George.

"Because you didn't ask, you made your choice the moment you said you didn't remember anything," said Hermione.

"That's not fair!" said George.

"No what's not fair is you pinning this all on me because I didn't understand some stupid plot you'd devised," she cried.

"Alright, I'm sorry! I'm not good at this stuff," said George.

"No, really? I hadn't noticed," cried Hermione sarcastically.

"There's no need for that attitude," said George coolly. "Can't we just move on?"

"I don't know George" said Hermione.

"Why not?" George asked.

She sighed.

"If we can't be honest with ourselves how do we expect this to go anywhere," she said.

"Who said life was easy Hermione, we're a testimony to that, why follow the rules? Can't we just be daring and create our own," he said.

Though he couldn't see her clearly in the dark closet he knew the look on her face was one of uncertainty.

"Please Hermione, give us a chance," he said.

"No more interferences, no more psychotic girls, no more secrets, just us?" she asked.

"Well I can't promise there won't be anymore psychotic girls but I'll try my best to keep them away," joked George.

Hermione giggled.

"I've missed you," she whispered.

"And I've missed you," he replied.

"George," she said.

"Hermione," he replied.

"We've been right idiots haven't we," she said.

"More than idiots," he replied.

"You do realise, if we'd just admitted our feelings in the beginning, none of this would have happened."

"So you're admitting your feelings are you," teased George.

Laying her heart on the line, Hermione replied "Yeah I am."

"That's good," said George. "As I have feelings for you too, and they're big honest to god mushy romantic feelings and I don't intend to let you go soon."

Hermione blushed in the darkness, and felt George pull her flush against him.

"Hermione," he breathed.

"Yes George," she replied.

"Will you do me the great honour of becoming my girlfriend," he asked with a grin.

"Why good sir it would be my pleasure," she replied.

They sealed it the good old fashioned way – with a kiss.

"Do you think we've left them in there long enough?" asked Harry.

"I don't know, I mean they've been in there for over three hours but the door hasn't opened," replied Charlie.

'Yeah I wondered about that, I didn't think they'd be that stubborn," said Harry.

Charlie nodded thoughtfully as he and Harry continued to watch the closet closely.

"I don't hear anything, do you?" asked Harry.

"No, we didn't cast any silencing charms did we?" asked Charlie.

"No, just the spell to open the door," replied Harry.

"I don't understand," muttered Charlie.

Little did the two boys know they were about to become a very amusing picture that would be showed off to friends for many years to come. While both were deep in thought a large bowl filled with jelly, soap, baked beans, eggs, flour, shaving foam and other disgusting items was slowly floating above them and getting closer by the second. It smelt revolting and no one would wish to be caught under it.

"Do you think we should have a peek in?" asked Charlie.

"I don't know, could do, then again I don't really want to be scared for life if they are doing something," replied Harry.

"We did good though didn't we," commented Charlie.

"You mean our meddling?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, without us they wouldn't have even considered getting together, plus whatever happens in that closet has to be better than the awkwardness we've been living in for the last two weeks," said Charlie.

"I suppose you're right," replied Harry. "Clara didn't seem to think so though."

"She doesn't know Hermione as well as us. I'm sure Hermione will be overjoyed to know that we were the ones who started the journey to her happiness," said Charlie.

"I don't know about that, but I hope she won't do anything too rash," replied Harry.

"What can she do? She's locked in a closet without a wand," said Charlie arrogantly.

"I can do this!" came Hermione's voice, a split second before the bowl of gunk descended upon the two meddlers. The satisfying sound of the gunk hitting the two men was revenge enough for Hermione though George went the extra mile and jinxed their hair and skin into a rather unattractive puce colour that was sure to last a week or more.

"What am I covered in?" asked Charlie angrily.

"Lots of gone off food and other liquids we had lying around," replied Hermione sweetly.

"How could you Mione," said Harry, struggling not to let any of the gunk into his mouth.

"How could I Harry? How could you!" she shouted. "You had no right to interfere in my life or George's life! I can't believe you would do something like that, you're supposed to be my best friend and you go and cross boundaries and invade my privacy like that."

"I did it for you Mione," he said weakly.

"I don't care who you did it for, you shouldn't have done it in the first place, how would you like it if I meddled in your life, here's a clue YOU WOULDN'T," she shouted.

"Now Hermione, I think they've suffered enough," said George.

"For now…' said Hermione. "But I may change my mind later," she said evilly.

"Wait, why is George's arm around your waist?" asked Charlie.

"Why do you think you idiot," said Hermione sarcastically.

"So our meddling worked," said Charlie oblivious to Hermione's growing anger.

"Calm down love, as amazing as your wand work is I don't think they deserve it," said George.

"You're lucky your brother is here or you'd find yourself in a VERY uncomfortable position," growled Hermione glaring at Charlie.

"Look we're sorry ok?!" said Harry and Charlie together.

"Apology not accepted, yet," said Hermione.

"But you two are together right?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," replied George.

"What changed?" asked Charlie.

"Well lots of things happen when you're locked in a broom closet," said Hermione cheekily.

"Personally I think it had something to do with pink elephants," said George.

* * *

 **Four Months Later**

"So today is the launch of the animal print clothing," said George. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," replied Hermione, going over the final checks in the shop, Clara stood to the left organising the refreshments, a queue of excited and impatient customers already gathered outside the store.

"When is the designer arriving?" asked Charlie.

"Haven't you all worked it out yet?" asked Hermione while Clara giggled in the background.

"Worked what out?" asked George, Harry and Charlie.

"The designer, it's me," said Hermione.

The three men looked at her with dumbstruck expressions.

"Please, close your mouths of the flies will fall in," she said with a giggle.

"You're the designer?" said George.

"Yup," she replied.

"Did I tell you, you are amazing," said George.

"I believe you did but I can never hear it enough times," she replied.

"Cheeky," he said.

"Yeah but you love me," she joked.

"Yeah I do, I love you," said George seriously.

The doors to the shop opened and the customers crowded in each wanting to have an item of the eagerly anticipated line of animal print clothing designed by Hermione Granger but the girl in question had no attention for the buyers now filling up her store, her eyes were for one only, a certain George Weasley who she'd just given her heart to.

"I love you too," she replied.


End file.
